


With Earmuffs On

by Moorishflower



Series: A Cold Academic Hell [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moorishflower/pseuds/Moorishflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the world around him is muffled, Sam finds it harder to ignore how much he wants Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Earmuffs On

Sam is no stranger to sex. His love life with Jessica had been perfectly satisfactory, thanks very much, and before that he’d had – what he considers – a sound education on the subject of women and safe sex conducted largely by his father, with supplementary readings (see: porn) offered by his brother. Suffice to say, Sam considers himself to be a well-rounded, well-read individual when it comes to sex.

According to Gabriel, though, he’s well-read on the topic of _boring_ sex.

“I’m not quite sure what you’re saying,” Sam says politely. Politely, because he can’t really settle on any one emotion that he should be feeling more than the others. He’s confused, of course, but also a little intrigued, a little apprehensive, and a little excited, though none of the feelings are strong enough for him to make a judgment yet.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, and then holds up Sam’s earmuffs and shakes them slightly, as though Sam is supposed to somehow absorb his knowledge through that motion. “It’s simple. You put _these_ on…” Another shake of the earmuffs. “…and then we both lie down on the couch, and we kiss, and maybe we get a little farther than first base this time.”

Sam laughs, reaching out and snatching the earmuffs from Gabriel’s grasp. He holds them in his lap, considering. He thinks he read something like that once, something about sensory deprivation during sex, how wearing a blindfold makes you feel things more intensely. This isn’t a blindfold, though. These are _earmuffs_. It’s not like Sam won’t be able to hear with them on, things will just be…dulled, he supposes. He’s never really considered the implications of depriving himself of one of his senses, especially during a make-out session with Gabriel. Oh, but Gabriel is staring at him like a kid waiting to go into a candy store, and Sam just…

“Hands above the waist,” Sam says, and Gabriel’s expression falls slightly. Sam relents. “I’ll take my shirt off?”

Gabriel pumps his arm, and now it’s Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes!”

“If this is a total disappointment, you can’t blame me,” he warns, and then he reaches for the first button on his shirt, undoing them with ponderous care. He can feel Gabriel watching him, his rapt attention as each button pops open, and Sam had never put much stock in the power of stripping before (and neither had Jessica, come to think of it), but this makes him feel…kind of good, actually. Almost powerful. He undoes the last button on his shirt and then lets it fall down loose over his shoulders. Gabriel reaches out, trailing his fingers over Sam’s chest. His thumb brushes against Sam’s nipple, and he shivers. _That’s_ new.

“You would look,” Gabriel murmurs, “ _so_ amazing with a tattoo. Right here.” He splays his fingers over Sam’s left pectoral, near the speeding thump of his heart, and Sam shivers again.

“A tattoo? Really?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel leans forward, moving his palm so that he can kiss the space his fingers had just occupied. His lips brush dangerously close to Sam’s other nipple. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

“I didn’t know you were into tattoos.” His breath hitches as Gabriel raises his head, sets his palms agains Sam’s shoulders and guides him back to the couch. Sam drops down, losing his shirt in the process. It slides from his shoulders to the floor and he promptly forgets about it as Gabriel straddles his lap, running his fingers back through Sam’s hair.

“Mhm,” he hums. “Tattoos, piercings…Got a few myself.”

“Tattoos?”

Gabriel leans forward, catching Sam’s earlobe between his teeth and nipping it, then soothing the small hurt with his tongue. “Maybe,” he whispers. “You wanna see?”

Sam swallows, hard, his hands straying to Gabriel’s hips and holding him in place. He’s so…God, he wants him. He wants Gabriel is ways that are new and filthy, but he also wants Gabriel the way he wanted Jessica, wants to spend long mornings in bed with him, lazy kisses and the slow movement of their bodies against each other. He wants that just as much as he wants Gabriel’s pants off and his…

“What are you thinking about?”

Sam clears his throat. Too quick, too sharp. Gabriel is smiling knowingly at him. “Nothing,” Sam says loudly. He fumbles for the earmuffs, dropped beside his thigh in his haste to get his hands on Gabriel, and he lifts them and slides them over his head.

The world becomes muffled. Not silent, not exactly, but hushed the way that snow seems to make everything a little bit quieter. The soft fur tickles his ears, and Sam adjusts the earmuffs until they’re comfortable. Gabriel is smiling at him.

“You have no idea how cute you look,” he says, and his voice is soft and watery, or maybe distant, like Sam is hearing it in a cave and the echoes are interfering with their voices. “Wearing just those. And _I_ got them for you, you know?”

“I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day with that.”

Gabriel grins, and then leans forward and kisses the corner of Sam’s mouth. Just a quick, light touch, and then gone again. Sam’s breath catches in his throat. He can’t hear Gabriel breathing, can’t hear the rustle of their clothes against the couch, can’t hear the sound of traffic outside (already muffled by the closed windows), can’t hear all the small sounds that make up the background noise of life. Sure, he can still hear Gabriel talking, but suddenly it’s like they’re completely alone. Like the world outside has vanished, has been erased or covered with snow, and they’re the only ones left for miles around. It’s strange and beautiful and a little bit lonely, and Sam grabs hold of Gabriel’s shoulders in a sudden, strange panic. It passes just as quickly as he’d felt it, but Gabriel combs his fingers through Sam’s hair and makes soft, hushing noises.

“I’m right here,” he says. “Hey. If this bothers you…”

Sam interrupts him with a kiss. It’s a weird, desperate locking of lips, Gabriel’s startled noise swallowed up and lost in Sam’s throat, Sam’s tongue touching Gabriel’s bottom lip and begging its way inside as he slides his hands down Gabriel’s shoulders, tucks his fingers underneath the hem of Gabriel’s shirt, rucks it up so that he can splay his palm across the soft curve of his belly. Sam likes this about Gabriel, that he’s not all hard angles and solid muscle. There are parts of him that are secret and soft, that he tries to keep hidden, his belly and thighs and the small of his back. Sam wants to see them, wants to press his cheek and his mouth there and leave a mark that only he knows exists. He doesn’t say this, though, doesn’t try to do it because he knows Gabriel will want more, and Sam isn’t ready for that just yet. He needs a little more time. He needs to make the first move on his own.

Their lips make a sound that Sam doesn’t hear as they part, and Gabriel stares at him with dazed eyes and his mouth hanging slightly open. His lips are shiny and swollen-soft, and Sam reaches up and touches them with his thumb, pulls Gabriel’s bottom lip down and marvels at how pink and soft and new-seeming his mouth is.

“Are you okay?” Gabriel asks, and Sam thinks about how easy it would be to unbutton his pants and slide them off and then he would know, finally, what it’s like…but there’s a part of him that still balks at that. Still shivers with uncertainty.

It’s getting smaller every day. He takes comfort in that.

“I’m okay,” he says, and Gabriel smiles. “More than okay. I just…I don’t know. Things were weird for a minute.”

“Things need to be weird more often.”

Sam laughs, cupping his palm to the back of Gabriel’s neck and pulling him back down for another kiss. This time it’s slow, gentle, and Gabriel doesn’t try to speed things up even though Sam can feel how hard he is against his thigh, can feel his own arousal like a burning coal in his belly.

“I can do that,” Sam murmurs against Gabriel’s mouth, and, strangely, he finds that he can.


End file.
